


Try Imagining a Place Where It's Always Safe and Warm

by GG_and_MM



Series: Shelter From the Storm 'Verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 14:58:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4142085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GG_and_MM/pseuds/GG_and_MM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchesters had tipped your world on its side and you knew it would never be the same. Just when you thought you might get back to some kind of normalcy they roll in again, like a hurricane, and you welcome the storm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title and lyrics from Bob Dylan's Shelter from the Storm. Written by Gabe's Girl. Beta'd by Miss Moose.

_Not a word was spoke between us, there was little risk involved_  
_Everything up to that point had been left unresolved_  
_Try imagining a place where it’s always safe and warm_  
_Come in, she said, I’ll give you shelter from the storm_  
Bob Dylan  


Seven weeks. It had been seven weeks since Sam and Dean had pulled out of your driveway and drove off. You had thought about them obsessively for the first few weeks. They would invade your thoughts in bed, cooking dinner, in meetings. It was infuriating and disturbing. You felt like they'd never get out of your head. At your most frustrated you were seriously scared that you'd get fired. You knew they weren't coming back. They hadn't given you any false hope. But these men, these two brothers, they were so intoxicating. 

And then it got a little better. It was gradual; you'd notice that you were able to read a whole page of a book before they popped in your mind. You could watch a movie and follow the storyline, laugh at the jokes. At about six weeks you could go a few hours before you'd suddenly think about Dean, wonder where he was, if Sam was ok, if they were safe. 

So when you were reading on the couch one afternoon, covered in a blanket and feeling warm and a little sleepy, the knock on the door was a surprise. The Winchesters actually weren't your first thought. You assumed it was the neighbor boy, coming to pick up his money for mowing that week. You opened the door and Sam was there. Just standing there, smiling, duffle bag slung over his shoulder. 

"Hi," he said. You stared, and he smiled back. "Hi," you answered. You didn't know what to say, but you had butterflies doing backflips in your belly. 

"How are you?" he asked. 

"I'm good Sam, how are you? Is everything ok?" It dawned on you that if he was here something might be wrong. Maybe a monster was around. Maybe the one stalking you was back.

"No, yeah, everything's fine, it's good. I'm good. Is this a bad time?" He's still standing outside the doorway. 

"Oh my gosh, no, it's a good time. I'm sorry, I'm being rude, I'm just surprised to see you." He steps through the door and drops the bag on the floor. 

"It's a good surprise I hope....," it's a statement but a question too. He really doesn't know if you want him here. You hug him. He's tall so you wrap your arms around his middle and he holds you tight. 

"This is kind of awkward, I didn't think about that on my way here," he says. 

You laugh, "Yeah, a little. So what are you up to, what brought you to town? More monsters? How's Dean?"

"No, no monsters, just you.... Dean's good, he's in Idaho tracking down a lead," he says. Well that wasn't the answer you were expecting. "Oh, ok." _What do you say?_ Just you, he had said, just you. You can't jump up and down like a kid, you'd look like an idiot. But that's what you want to do. You're smiling though, you can't hide that. 

You reach out and lightly touch the bruise on his jaw. "Do you want some ice for that? Are you thirsty? Hungry?" He shakes his head. 

"No, I'm good, just caught a board to the face from a vamp, it's fading now. So what were you doing? I don't mean to interrupt anything." He's looking around, the place is a bit messy but it's not horrible.

"No, I was just reading a bit, thinking about taking a nap actually. No big plans for me." 

He asks about the book you're reading, he likes the author and he hasn't read this one yet. He's really excited about it and you promise him he can have it as soon as you're done. That seems to make him really happy. 

"Thanks, I'd really appreciate that. Thank you." It's something so small but it seems to strike a nerve somehow. He's quiet for a minute and then he stands. 

"Listen, I'll leave you alone. I just wanted to check on you and see how you're doing. I'm gonna get a room and crash for a while. Maybe I can bring a pizza back later?" He's only been there about 20 minutes; you're thrown off by what's happening. You only have a split second to think about this, he's moving towards the door. Normally you'd be cautious, careful, you wouldn't want to seem desperate or eager or like a total loser. 

But in that second where he's reaching for the door you say, "Fuck it." You actually say it. Out loud. He looks at you, confused. 

"I didn't mean to say that out loud." He's still staring, now he's really confused. "I don't want you to go, Sam. I mean, unless you have someplace you need to be, why don't you just stay here? I don't have a lot of food in the house but I can pick up a few things. You can shower and sleep here, if you want." There it is. You said it, and you said it out loud, and you wish you could take it all back because it was stupid. __But, why is he here?

He turns back. "I'd like to stay. I'd love to stay." He hugs you again and you stand there in his arms a little too long. You finally break away and sit on the couch, he sits down beside you, very close. His thigh is up against yours. "So do you want to watch some tv or something?" you ask. Now that he's here you have no idea what to do. 

"Sure," he says. He puts his arm behind you on the couch and you flip on the tv and hand him the remote. 

"Watch what you want, I'm going to check out the fridge and see what I've got for dinner." 

Standing in front of the refrigerator you can't figure out what you're doing. Well, you know what you're doing, you're running away. You asked him to stay never thinking he'd say yes, and now you have no idea what to do. Or say. You've had a grand total of maybe an hour's worth of conversation with this man, and a lot more hours of sex. Talk about awkward. 

This is stupid. You force yourself to walk back to the living room and sit down. 

"Not much going on in there, looks like I'll have to run to the store or we can order something later." 

"That's fine," he says. "I don't watch much tv so I don't even know what shows are good." He puts the remote down. 

He turns toward you, "So what do you like to read?" _Ok, this is a subject you're comfortable with._ You talk, and talk and talk. He laughs easily, you're surprised by how similar your tastes are. You're relaxed now. If you were out for drinks you'd think this had serious potential. Before you know it two hours have passed, and you're not talking about books anymore. You've gone from books to art, music, movies, on and on. You're really enjoying yourself now. 

"You getting hungry at all?" he finally asks. 

"Yeah, I could eat. What sounds good to you?"

He thinks for a minute. "What's good around here?" he finally asks. You name a few places, all of them deliver and the food is good. "How about the Italian place? I'd love a good salad and some pasta." he says. _Perfect, just what you wanted._ You order off the take out menu and settle back on the couch to wait for it to arrive. 

"So what do you like to do when you're not hunting Sam?" He seems a little surprised by your question. 

"Well.... Uh. I don't have a lot of time when I'm not working a case, really. I usually just get a hotel and read and sleep for a few days. Not much time for anything other than that." 

That's kind of sad to you, but you don't let him know that you feel that way. You used to travel a lot for work, you can't imagine not having a place to go home to. 

You chat some more, the food comes and it's delicious, as usual. You're cleaning up the mess and putting away the leftovers, Sam is trying to help but he doesn't know where anything goes. It's actually cute. Finally he says, "Do you mind if I shower? I'd just like to clean up a bit." You take him to your bathroom to show him where the towels and things are, and as you turn to leave he slips a finger in your belt loop and pulls you closer. 

"Would you care to join me?" 

You smile and he smiles back, a huge beautiful smile that lights up his face. His dimples are showing, you reach up and take his face in your hands. "I love those dimples, Sam, they make you look so innocent. I want to kiss them."

He's pulling your shirt off, unbuttoning your jeans, and your hands are under his shirt, undoing his belt. You're not going to make it into the shower at this pace, and you'd really like to take a shower first. So you pull away and start the water, making it hot and steamy. You step in and Sam gets in behind you. Thank god you got the biggest shower when you had the bathroom remodeled; it even has a seat in it. 

You both soap up your hands and then use them to explore. Sam rubbing his hands all over your slick back, running his hands down to grab your ass. Rubbing up and down your arms, across your stomach and then over your breasts. The water is hot and you're not cold at all but you shiver because his hands feel so good. You start at his neck, reaching up to rub and massage, down his shoulders and arms, starting up at the top of his back again and all the way down, grabbing his ass too just for fun. He laughs. You lather his chest and stomach and then reach down and wrap your hand around him. 

He leans back against the wall and lets the water pour over his head. His eyes are closed and he just enjoys it, smiles, sighs, totally relaxed. He stops you before you take him too far. He shampoos your hair and it feels amazing. 

After a little more time feeling and rubbing over slick skin he says, "The last time I was here you made me a promise, do you remember?" 

Oh yes, you'd thought about it a million times since then. Exactly what you'd do and how. "I remember, and I have big plans for you, Sam." He smiles. 


	2. Chapter 2

He's spread eagle and the look on his face is both excited and unsure. "Have you ever been tied up, Sam?" you ask. He's looking at you, you're naked and he's not hiding what he's looking at by any means.

"Yes, but not.... Not like this. Not in a good way," he says. You can see the apprehension flash across his face; he's remembering things -- bad things. You lean down to his ear, "It's ok, Sam, just relax. Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise, ok? I have all kinds of things I want to try with you." 

You touch his face, look into his eyes, and he relaxes, smiles, "There's those dimples again, Sam, you know what those do to me." You kiss each cheek, right on his dimples. He's still a little tense, he doesn't have any idea what to expect. But you can tell he likes you talking to him.

"I've been researching, Sam. I spent so much time on the internet looking up things you might like me to do to you. I don't think you want me to hurt you, do you? Do you want pain Sam?"

"No, I don't want pain. I just want you in control. I want you to control me."

"Ok, that's good Sam. We're going to have so much fun. I'm going to have so much fun with you, and you're going to lay there and take it. And you're going to keep your dick hard, really hard for me. That's your job, Sam. Can you do that?"

His breath is shaky because your hand is wrapped around him, sliding up down, up and down. Slow, but your grip is firm, stopping at the top to rub circles around the head with your thumb. 

"Yeah. Yeah, I can do that," he says. 

As usual, you're impressed by his size. You let go and kiss him, kiss and bite around his ears and neck, bite his nipples. Massage all down his stomach. You could do this for hours. And you plan on it. You need a hot muscled guy to work out some of your tension on. 

An hour later you've licked, sucked, massaged and touched every inch of Sam at least twice over. He already came once in your mouth with your finger in his ass. He had arched his back up to you and you'd buried as much of him as you could down your throat. You sat on his face and came once. He's hoarse and he's pulled on the restraints so much you're afraid he's going to have bruises, but he loves it. And then you tell him what you really want. 

"You know, Sam, the last time you were here you made me come so hard. It was different than any orgasm I've had before. I want to do that again. We're going to try to do that again." 

He's nodding and he's so turned on. You run your hand through his hair and pull his head back. "I've been researching that too.... G-spot orgasms. How to make it happen. It felt so good." 

He smiles, "That was so fucking hot," he says. You kiss him, hard. And you swing your leg over to straddle him. You slide down him; he's so damn tall that you can't really kiss while he's inside you. He seems to like this because then he can watch what you're doing. You slide him inside you, he moans "Oh, god _damn_ that feels good," he says.

You're sliding up and down him now. The first time you rode his cock, you'd thought he wouldn't fit, he was too big, but this time it's like he was made for you. Made to fill up every space inside you. He feels so good, so hard and slick. You're moving faster, wanting to get to that place again but it's not happening. 

You decide to switch positions. You squat over top of him, sliding straight up and down, bouncing, and it feels absolutely amazing. "Oh God, Jesus, fuck, fuck, fuck..." Sam is in heaven, pulling tight on the restraints and arching his back up. All the muscles in his chest and arms are taut, and you can count the six pack in his abs. You put your hand on his hard stomach for balance. 

"Yes, it feels so good, Sam," you're moaning and sweating and you don't ever want to stop, but you're still not moving closer to that feeling. You try a couple more positions but it's just not happening. Maybe it's the angle, maybe you're trying too hard, you don't know. But even though it feels so good you're getting frustrated, and Sam knows it. 

"Untie me," he says. It's not a request, he growls it at you, and you reach up and slip the loops off his hands. He sits up and grabs you in an instant, and he pulls you down on his lap, slipping inside you. "I'm going to get you there, don't worry," and he kisses you, deep and long. He slips his hands under your ass and raises you up slightly and then lowers you down, it feels sooo fucking good. You're arms are wrapped around his neck and you you put your face by his ear, breathing in the smell of him. He smells like sex, and Sam, a musky and intoxicating smell. 

"God Sam, you feel so good. So good," you whisper in his ear. 

"Mmmmmmm," is the only response you get. He's kissing you again and bucking his hips up into you. You're breathing hard, little moans escaping every time he thrusts up. He stops suddenly and leans you backward, he supports you with one hand and slips the loops off his feet with his other hand, you'd forgotten about those. He lays you back on the bed then and he's over top of you. 

You've got your legs as far apart as you can, "Come on Sam, please..." you say, and he stares into your eyes as he lowers himself down, slowly. So slowly it's like torture. He slides into you, never losing eye contact. You're convinced it's torture. The most _exquisite_ torture, and you don't ever want him to stop. He's moving in and out of you at a lazy pace, but he's holding himself up high, at just that perfect angle. 

"I've been doing some research too," he says, "just for this moment, so I could watch your face as I make you come so hard. It's all I could think about. Maybe we were watching the same porn at the same time." 

You can hardly focus on what he's saying because you can feel it now. It's building, that heat, that pressure, it's almost like you need to pee, but not quite. Everything is feeling swollen and hot, so hot. Sam can see it on your face, you can't catch your breath and you want to close your eyes and just feel it. Just feel. 

But you wait, you hold your eyes on Sam, you don't look away. He can tell it's getting closer and he's picking up his pace, building a momentum in you, one you can't stop. It's faster and faster and faster, he's jackhammering down into you now, and you're riding the edge, it's right there. Sam is close too, he's holding on, waiting for you, watching. 

You shift your hips just an inch and somehow he rubs your G-spot with slightly more pressure and that's it. You fall over the edge, your eyes can't stay open and there's flashing lights behind your eyelids. It's racing through your belly and you can feel the liquid, whatever it is, you're eyes are closed, there's no way you can hold them open, and you're moaning a high pitched sound you can't control, gasping, crunching up, you can't help it. 

Sam can't hold back anymore and he's coming right after you, he's loudly saying "Yes, yes, yes, yes...." 

Your legs are shaking and your feet are cramping, you've never felt anything close to that, it was better than the last one. 

Sam collapses on top of you. "That's the most amazing thing I've ever seen," he says, and you laugh into his chest. "I don't think I can walk," he mumbles into the bed, "I'm just going to sleep right here." 

He's making snoring noises and you're laughing harder, you can't help it. He rises up and stands by the bed, just looking at you. You should probably feel self-conscious, but you don't, not a bit. He leans down and kisses your cheek, "I think we need to change your sheets," he whispers and chuckles into your ear. 

You take another shower together, but this one is more about closeness and touching, not heating things up for sex. He helps you change the sheets on your bed and by that time you're both ready to collapse. You lay down and he slips behind you, wrapping his arm tight around you. It's funny, you've never liked being held while you sleep, but this just feels right, it feels good and safe. 

You wake up in the morning to the sound of Sam rummaging around in the kitchen. He's scrambling eggs and making toast, and searching for coffee filters. You watch him for a minute, surprised by how normal this all feels with a man you barely know. You finally walk in the room and hand him a coffee filter, and then take one look at the eggs and know you're going to have to remake them. "Sorry, I'm not much of a cook," he laughs. He kisses you and runs his thumb over your cheek. 

He stays two days before he gets a call about a hunt. It was two days of reading together in comfortable silence, watching movies with your legs across his lap, food, laughter, and sex. Lots and lots of sex. You know he's leaving when the call comes in. It was inevitable. He gives you his phone number and tells you not to hesitate to call or text him for any reason. 

"I'll be back as soon as I can Okay? I'm coming back." he tells you as he's standing by the door with his bag over his shoulder. "Just be safe Sam, stay safe ok?". He nods and kisses you, and then goes out the door, closing it between you.


	3. Chapter 3

You think about Sam over the next few days, but it's not obsessive. Just remembering and smiling, sometimes wondering how he is. You believed him when he said that he'd be back, he had no reason to lie. You hadn't asked anything from him, why would he make a promise he didn't want to keep? 

After work one evening you park your car and walk up the sidewalk. You're so ready to get out of these heels, they're killing your feet. Who the hell invented heels anyway? Had to be a man, no woman would put another woman through this. You unlock the door and walk inside, throwing your purse and leather tote on the chair when there's an immediate knock on the door. You don't even think and just turn and open it. 

"You sure it's safe to just open the door, missy? You didn't even ask who it was." 

You're stunned. It's Dean. God damn, this man is handsome in an other worldly way. You smile and he pushes past the door and picks you up, wrapping you tight in a hug. 

"How are you sweetie?" he asks. 

"I'm good Dean, how are you? Is Sam ok? Did he forget something?" 

He lowers you down to the floor and looks at you. "Sam's fine, I talked to him yesterday, he's on a hunt in Colorado. I don't think he forgot anything," he clears his throat, "when did he leave?"

And you know. He hadn't known Sam was there. _Oh, shit._

"Oh, I..... So how are you? What have you been up to?" You're smiling the fakest smile ever, you probably look like a fool. 

"That bastard," he whispers. 

"Don't be mad Dean, please don't be mad." This is so strange - _should he be mad_? You didn't do anything wrong.

He looks at you and sees your concern. "Oh I'm not mad at you, I promise. I'm gonna throttle Sammy the next time I see him, though. We were supposed to meet up here this weekend," he says. 

You raise your eyebrows, "Oh, really? Is that so? So you're here two days early because....?" 

He smiles that wicked smile then. The one that heats you up like striking a match. 

He steps toward you, "Well, sweetie, I've never been known for my patience. And I love those fucking shoes." He kisses you. He's not wasting a second, he wants you and he's not hiding it at all. 

He's got you backed against the door, and he slips his arm behind you and flips the deadbolt. Something about the click of the lock, it sounds like a promise of things to come, and you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him back even harder. He grabs your ass and lifts you up again, you can hardly spread your legs because your skirt is fitted. So you reach down and shimmy it up just enough to slip your legs up by his waist. He's gripping your ass so tight and he pushes against you, shoving his crotch against yours. It forces your legs apart more and you hear your skirt rip up the back seam. 

Dean is being rough. He's not hurting you, but he knows what he wants and it's turning you on like you can't believe. You want to touch him everywhere and you can't seem to find any place to feel his skin. _Why does he always wear so many fucking clothes?_

He's kissing and biting your neck now, and he's got you pinned so tight against the wall with his body that he can move his hands around. He's running his hands up your thigh, and when he reaches the lacy top of your stocking he stops and looks at you. 

"What are you wearing under there?"

You smile a little. "I had an important meeting this afternoon, and I like to wear nice underwear. Sometimes it makes me feel more confident." He sits you down on the floor again and without losing eye contact he grabs the front of your blouse and pulls it apart, pearly buttons flying all over the room. He pulls it down your arms and the fabric flutters to the floor. 

You're standing there in a lacy black balconette bra and a skirt ripped up the back, and your black heels. He's looking up and down you when he just reaches out and grabs you around the waist and picks you up, you wrap your legs around him and he carries you to the bedroom. 

You whisper in his ear, "Do you like to be tied up, Dean?". He laughs a low sexy laugh and you already know what the answer is. 

"No. No, I don't like being tied up, but I'd like to tie you up." 

He kicks the bedroom door shut and carries you to the bed and lays you down. 

"That's what I was hoping you'd say," you smile. 

You unhook and unzip what's left of your skirt and slip it off. You're laying on the bed in your lacy bra and panties, a garter belt and black lace topped stockings, and your heels. You pull the clip from the back of your hair and it slides down all around your shoulders. 

"Man, I wish I had a camera," Dean says as he stares at you. He's kicked his boots over by the dresser, his shirt is off and he's slipping out of his jeans. "Now, about tying you up...." he says. 

You tell him the satin ties are on the floor tucked under the bed, still attached to the frame. He slips them over your wrists, and he's got your arms crossed above your head. He slips your heels off and drops them on the floor, putting your feet through the satin loops. Your legs are spread wide open. You're wet already, you can't help it. 

He lays down beside you on the bed, still looking you up and down. 

"I really, really like this underwear. Almost as much as I like you naked. But we'll get to that soon enough," he says. 

He runs his hand across your stomach, up over that sensitive skin under your breasts. You sigh and close your eyes. You're going to enjoy this, you can already tell. 

He kisses you slowly, he's not in a hurry now. He touches you everywhere, from your fingertips, all the way down. Then he's rubbing the soles of your feet, which you forgot were achy from the shoes. The way he's him massaging them is the most relaxing thing you've ever felt. 

He lays up beside you again and slips his hand down. He's touched you everywhere but _there_ and you want it so bad. He runs his hand over the thin lacy fabric between your legs and you moan a little. You wish you could move and push against his hand but the restraints won't let you. He rubs your inner thighs, then lightly grazes the tip of his finger over the lace again. It's a light, teasing sensation, you want more. 

You wish your hands were loose so you could touch him, but it's kinda nice not having to think, just being able to feel. He won't stop with his fingertips, just barely rubbing up and down, God you want to grind into his hand. After what feels like an hour of this, when you're sure your panties are soaked, he slips his hand up and then down inside the front of your panties. Runs his middle finger up the length of your slit. "Mmmm, Dean... That feels so good," you whisper. He kisses you and slips his finger between your folds and circles your clit. You gasp in his mouth. 

He lowers his head to your chest, you've still got your bra on. "This thing has got to go," he says. He can't get to the snaps since you're pinned on your back. He reaches down to his jeans on the floor and pulls out a pocket knife, he flips it open and lays the cold metal against your chest. He slips it up under the fabric between the bra cups and slices. It cuts through easy, the knife is sharp. The bra falls apart and your tits are exposed. He closes the knife and drops it to the floor. 

His hand is between your legs again and starts the circles, then puts his mouth over your nipple and starts circles there. Oh God, this is perfect. You can't hardly breathe it feels so good, and you're so damn horny. You want him, now. 

"Fuck me, Dean, I want to come."

He smiles at you. "We're nowhere near that yet, but you're going to come soon." 

He slides down between your legs. He's running his face up your inner thighs and his five o'clock shadow is snagging in your stockings. He leans over the top of your panties and grabs them in his teeth. Takes both hands and grabs them, ripping them apart. Your legs are still in them but you're pussy is exposed, exactly what he wanted. 

He lowers his mouth down and licks you. One long lick, right up the outside. You're shaking a little bit, wanting your hands free. 

"Just relax," he says. 

And you try. You close your eyes and feel his tongue slip in. Everything is so sensitive. You can feel how swollen you are down there, so ready. He's starting the pressure on your clit, flattening the tip of his tongue against it. You don't think there's another man alive that can do what he does with his mouth, it's positively sinful. God, you want to move, you want your hands free so you can grab handfuls of his hair. He reaches up and brushes his hand over your nipple and you shudder. "Dean, I want to touch you. I need to." 

He raises up, "You want to touch me baby?", he kisses your stomach. 

"Yes," you moan. 

"Are you sure? Don't you trust me?" He's got his mouth over your nipple again and you've lost your train of thought. 

"I trust you, Dean, I just want to feel you." That seems to satisfy him and he slips the loops off your hands and wrists, kissing each one where they rubbed. 

He settles his face between your legs again and pushes your legs up and apart, giving him full access to every inch of you. He's circling your clit and you've got fistfuls of his hair. You can't hold on much longer, it feels too good. You're grinding his face as he slips two fingers in you, fucking you with them. You reach up and pinch your nipples. All these sensations, it's too much, and you lose it. 

Your orgasm comes so fast and hard and you're not even done coming yet when he raises up and over you and slams inside of you. "I can't last, it's been too long," he grunts out. 

A minute later and he's coming hard and long, gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw. When he's done he holds himself there, still buried inside you. He looks at you and smiles. "You're going to need some new underwear. Are you hungry?"

You laugh and you both roll out of bed and head to the bathroom. 

Dean says he'll run to a bar a few blocks away and pick up some food while you shower. He comes back with cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings, cheese balls, tons of greasy bar food. You both stuff yourselves and curl up on the couch to watch tv. Dean's snoring in no time and you wake him up and head to bed. He lays on his back staring at the ceiling and slips his fingers between yours, somehow you feel closer to him with this little gesture than you have during any sex or hug you've shared. 

"I'm going to have to go into work for a while tomorrow, but I'll get out there as soon as I can, probably early afternoon. Sorry." He turns his head toward you, "You don't have to be sorry, I know you have a life and I don't expect you to put it on hold when I come by. Sam won't expect that either." You lean over and kiss him on his scruffy cheek, curl into his side and shut your eyes to sleep. 

The next afternoon, you open the door to the smell of something delicious. You toss your bag down and head to the kitchen where Dean is tasting something from a pot.

"What smells so good?" you ask. He smiles and grabs your waist, "I'm not telling, dinner is a surprise. A recipe I've been wanting to try. I picked up a few groceries, hope you don't mind." 

He kisses you, slow and firm, with his hand on the side of your face. "There's a surprise for you in the bedroom too, go check it out," he smiles. 

"Well, I like the sound of that," you say as you turn around. He slaps your ass as you walk away.

There's a box on the bed tied with a red satin ribbon. What in the world? You open it to find three new lacy bras, red, white and black with leopard print trim. Three panties and garter belts to match, and three pairs of stockings, nude, black and black with a seam up the back. He must have checked your sizes because they're all perfect. 

"So? Did I do okay?" he says from the door behind you.

You turn toward him, "Dean, these are beautiful. This must have cost a fortune, you didn't have to do this."

He just smiles. "I wanted to. I still need to replace that skirt and blouse though. After all the underwear options i just couldn't look at any more clothes," he laughs. You thought you had him pegged. Coming home to find him cooking was a big enough surprise, to find out he shopped, for you, well you don't know him at all. Which is nice actually. The kiss you give him is full of promises of things to come.....


	4. Chapter 4

And so your life goes. 

Sam and Dean stopping in when they can, sometimes together, sometimes not. One of them is usually there about every other week. Normally for a day or two, sometimes longer. They always tell you to call them if you need anything while they're gone, but you don't. You've been on your own a long time, you can handle whatever comes up. And besides, you don't want to distract them while they're working. A distraction at the wrong time could get them killed. 

Sometimes they show up looking close to death anyway. They've shown up at your door worn out, beat down and completely exhausted. They both have keys so sometimes you come home to find them asleep on the couch, in the shower, cooking, or sometimes they slip in bed with you in the middle of the night. Sometimes they want sex, sometimes they need comfort more than anything. 

They need a place to recuperate, to gather strength and and have quiet and calm in the storm of their life. They relish in the mundane normalcy of your life. Sam loves fixing things around the house, the light switch in the hall that sometimes works and sometimes doesn't, the drip of the bathroom sink. He looks for things he can do while he's there, wanting to be useful. Dean prefers to cook, he's always coming in with a new recipe for a roast or stew, sometimes burgers or steaks. It's all delicious. And he takes over maintenance of your car, changing the oil and giving it tune ups. There are times when you feel like you don't offer anything to them, and then they show up broken, shattered, and you're picking up the pieces trying to put them back together. 

On one of his next solo visits, Sam tells you about the time he lost his virginity. He was seventeen and dating a girl he really liked. They'd been in the town for about six weeks and he had plenty of free time, with his Dad gone and Dean newly 21. He and the girl and had gotten really close, and she promised him she really wanted to do it while they were parked in a secluded spot by the lake one night. She was a virgin too, and they hadn't gotten very far when she started crying and saying it hurt. She was bleeding and Sam was scared to death. He took her home and dropped her off, and her Dad was chasing him down not long after. He was convinced Sam had raped his daughter. Sam had found Dean in a bar while his face was still dripping blood from the beating her Dad gave him, and Dean had flipped out. He wanted to find the guy but Sam just wanted to crawl in a hole and die. They'd left town that night and he'd never talked to the girl again. 

Sam hadn't had sex again for over a year, until Dean had tricked him into sleeping with a prostitute. He'd invited a couple girls over to their hotel and loosened Sam up with beer. The girl was more than willing, and had actually enjoyed herself with Sam, several times. After Sam got over feeling betrayed by Dean, it had actually helped him. From that point forward he was very careful with women, and he'd had a few back out, but the ones who stuck around, he always made sure they enjoyed themselves. 

You knew this wasn't something anyone knew about him except Dean. He trusted you, and you hadn't dared to move a muscle when he fell asleep with his head in your lap a short time later. You just watched him, running your fingers through his hair, brushing it back from his face. These men were a mess.

About six months later Dean had stumbled through the door falling down drunk. He buried himself in a bottle for a full day, drinking until he threw up, passing out, and waking up to drink again. You had waited, knowing he would have to open up soon, if he didn't give himself alcohol poisoning first.

Finally he woke up in the morning with you wrapping your arms around him from behind. You didn't want him crawling out of bed and back into the bottle. He sighed and relaxed a little. And then he started talking. 

He'd just finished a hunt. A demon more vile than most. It had jumped from person to person, killing and maiming from town to town while he tracked it and tried to trap it. He'd finally caught it in a devil's trap but it was in the body of a little girl. She couldn't have been more than five years old, and when he'd started trying to exorcise the demon it had started breaking her bones. Tearing her apart from the inside out, thinking he would stop to save the child. He couldn't let this demon slip away again, and if he freed it from the trap it would jump before he could take it down. He'd tried to start the exorcism again and the child started bleeding from her eyes and ears. He had stabbed her with a demon blade before the demon could cause her more pain. You'd cried against his back, thinking this was the most horrible thing you'd ever heard. 

Until he started crying. He told you how pretty the girl was. So sweet. And he'd told you that he never wanted kids, but when he had dared to dream, in moments at the park or while watching fathers with their children, he'd always secretly wanted a girl. A little girl with dark hair and green eyes, that he could put up on his shoulders, that would stand on his feet while he slow danced with her, that would wrap her hand around his little finger as she skipped beside him. And that was where the real pain came from, that had broken you. Dean had to kill a child, and that was horrible, but he'd also killed another dream. These men weren't allowed to have dreams, and that hurt more than anything.

And they had picked up the pieces of you, too. Dean came wandering in one day to find you lying in bed, staring at the wall. You didn't think you could cry any more. Your eyes were almost swollen shut, and as much as you wanted to be alone, you wanted to clutch on to him more. He had no idea what was going on. He didn't say a word. He lay down between you and the wall and met your eyes. He wouldn't look away, he just waited. 

"My Mom died," you finally said. He was shocked. He'd pulled you close then, up against him. 

"Oh God, baby, I'm so sorry. You should have called us. When?"

You were crying again. How could you cry more? "Four days ago, the funeral was yesterday." 

He squeezed you so tight. He knew how close you were with your Mom. They'd never met her, but you talked about her all the time. She was your best friend, your biggest supporter. You'd wanted her to move in with you five years ago. She was getting forgetful, sometimes a little confused. She had adamantly refused, she didn't want to be a burden, and you were still traveling a lot with work then. 

She had already picked an assisted living facility she liked, she'd known it was coming and she wasn't giving up control of her decisions. When you got a promotion a couple years later and wouldn't be traveling anymore, you'd tried again, but she was stubborn.

"The right guy is coming sweetie, and when he does you'll need that house all to yourself." 

Plus she'd made friends and they were always laughing like teenagers when you stopped in, and you visited her all the time. You wanted to take Sam and Dean to meet her but you didn't know how to introduce them. Now, that seemed so stupid. But she knew you'd met someone, she could see it in your smile, and a couple weeks ago she'd kissed your cheek and said "I'm happy you're happy, don't let it go." She hadn't asked any questions, maybe she knew it was complicated. 

"I wish you would have called, babe," he finally whispered into your hair. 

"I know Dean, but I needed to get through it, I needed to keep it together. I knew I'd fall apart if you and Sam were there." 

He was crying. "It's okay to fall apart, it's okay. I got you." 

And you had finally let yourself break. 

He'd lain there with you for hours, finally getting up to run you a bath and make you eat some soup. At some point, he had called or text Sam because he came rushing through the door about ten hours later, picking you up and saying "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," over and over. They'd stayed a full week, letting you cry, making you laugh, holding you when you needed it and giving you your space. From that point on they called you every few days. Just checking in. You still never called them, but you liked having them make a quick call. More for the fact that you knew they were okay. 

One day in the fall you were doing laundry when Sam unlocked the door and peeked his head in, "Hey, I have a favor to ask." 

This was unusual. "Okay," you said, letting the word hang there, waiting. 

He stepped fully through the door with a dog beside him and you had no idea what to say, you just gawked. It was dirty and scruffy, it probably stunk but you weren't getting close enough to find out. 

"I found her on the side of the road! I stopped at a vet's office and she doesn't have a microchip or tags. I want to find her owner if I can, is it okay if I clean her up and keep her here for a few days?"

Oh lord. You like dogs, you'd even considered adopting one, but you'd gotten overwhelmed trying to pick one and given up. But this dog was big, really big, and nasty. 

"Um, Okay, I guess. Is she nice, Sam?"

His face lit up with that huge smile. It melts you every time. "Yeah, she's really sweet! Let me take her and clean her up, I'll clean the bathroom up when I'm done too," he reached outside the door and grabbed a bag from a pet store, this wasn't looking good. 

He ushered the dog into the guest bathroom and scrubbed her up with dog shampoo. You watched from the doorway, the poor dog. She looked tired, and she closed her eyes and swayed on her feet a little while Sam was rubbing the soap in really well. He washed her twice and then rinsed her really well, surprisingly she had several spots of white on her, one of them over her eye. She had big brown eyes and most of her fur was black. She looked to be maybe a sheepdog mixed with.... Something big? Her hair was shaggy, and being wet made her look like a gigantic rat. Sam dried her off as much as possible and you told him you'd take her to the kitchen and feed her while he cleaned up the bathroom.

She followed you through the house and you dug through the pet store bag. There was food, bowls, a collar, a tennis ball and some treats. You opened the treats and she immediately sat down. Well someone had done a little training with her at least. She was also really calm, and took the treat gently from your fingers. If you had to watch her for a few days at least she wasn't hyper. You filled up the water bowl and gave her some food but she didn't eat anything. She was standing by the back door. The back yard was fully fenced, so you opened the door and she trotted out. A few minutes later she was on the deck wanting in. 

Sam walked in as you opened the door, "Well I guess if you're going to bring home strays at least you pick the ones that are housebroken and well-mannered," you smile at him and he laughs. 

That evening he posts an ad online and in all the local papers, and the next day he calls all the vets in the phone book but none of them have a missing dog that fits her description. You go into the office for a few hours and when you come home, Sam's been to the pet store again. You count 3 large dog beds in the house, and he's bought jar to keep her treats in on the counter. At least he matched it to the kitchen colors. If the owner of this dog shows up you've got a feeling that Sam isn't going to handle it well. 

But three weeks later there's still hasn't been a call from anyone, and when Sam and Dean come through the door, Sam is looking for the dog while Dean hugs you. He's squatted down talking to her in a silly voice and Dean just rolls his eyes. Finally, Sam stands up and wraps you in a bear hug. 

"I don't think anyone is going to claim her Sam, you might as well give her a name." 

He's flashes a grin and asks if you're sure you want to keep her. "Yeah, she's staying," you say, as she walks over and lies down on the floor by Dean's feet. "It's nice having her here, and she's the quietest, calmest dog I've ever known. I'm glad you're here actually, I'm taking her to the vet tomorrow to get her shots, you can go with me. But they're going to want to know her name." 

Sam stares at her for a minute and without hesitation says, "Gretchen. Her name is Gretchen." 

And that's it, it's final. This lost and lonely dog that no one wanted had found herself a family when she walked to the side of the highway at just the moment Sam Winchester drove by. It was meant to be.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanksgiving and Christmas pass calmly; the boys are there for both. Dean cooking some fantastic traditional holiday meals, and the three of you sit around the table sharing stories of friends and family. You tell them funny stories about your Mom, and how you'd never known your Dad because he died while your mom was pregnant with you. You knew his father though; your Grandfather was crazy about you and doted on you like you hung the moon. He passed when you were eleven. You knew some of your Mom's family, some of your cousins, but you'd drifted apart over the years. 

They had told you about their Dad, a few funny things he'd said or done, but they didn't really open up about him. They talked more about the friends that made up their family: Bobby, Ellen and Jo, Ash, Cas, Kevin. 

They'd lost them all in one way or another. All except Cas, he was around, and they told you he was an Angel. At first you hadn't taken it literally, just thought they meant he was really nice, and then it dawned on you. They told you that you might meet him some day, and that if you ever had an emergency you could pray to him. They'd told him about you, he would answer if you called. It felt nice knowing that they had told someone about you and you tried to not blush and feel self-conscious. 

You're a little scared when you mentioned one day that you wish there were some shelves and cabinets in the laundry room. Sam jumps on the idea immediately. He's got a vision of what to do in minutes, bubbling over with ideas and enthusiasm. "Knock yourself out Sam," you finally tell him. You're nervous but you don't let him see it; he's good at little repairs but this definitely isn't a little job. 

He surprises you though. It's more than what you asked for, completely better than anything you'd thought of. The cabinets are beautiful and the shelving is exactly what you wanted. He wouldn't let you back there for three days once he started, and he only stopped working for quick meals, bathroom breaks, and about six hours of sleep. You couldn't even entice him away for sex. _Now that's dedication_. He wants you to like it so much, he's as eager as a child showing their artwork off when he brings you in. 

"Oh my God, Sam, this is perfect. I didn't know you could do something like this!" He's beaming, and even Dean looks impressed when he sticks his head in. 

"Damn Sammy, nice work," he says with an appreciative look on his face. 

"You guys really like it? I almost made these cabinets smaller and shifted this shelf over, but I decided that wasn't workable for someone who's not over six feet tall, so I went with this instead." He's insecure; it's all over his face. You look him square in the eye and say, "I love it Sam, but this might not have been a good idea." He's apprehensive, "Do you want me to change something?" he asks. "No Sam, I said it's perfect, it is, but I have so many other jobs for you to do now. You're going to be busy," he laughs loudly at that. "Now, can I do some laundry?" you ask and he smiles back, "It's all yours M'lady." He sweeps into a bow as he backs out of the room. 

About 20 minutes later you're still in there, the washer is going and you're puttering around putting things away when Sam moseys in. "You know," he says, "I like working with my hands, building things. It's productive and it gives me time to think." This is going somewhere; you stop and focus on him. "I'd love to try anything you want." 

He smiles and leans back against the door, snapping it shut behind him, his eyes sparkling. "But right now there are some other things I want to do with my hands...." He steps in front of you, pushing you up against the washing machine and running his hands up your sides. 

"Oh really, Sam? Well I might be able to put those big hands to use right now." He leans down and kisses you. 

"Yeah, I thought of a few things I want to do to you while I was working in here," he says, kissing your neck. The height difference makes him have to lean way down; he lifts you up and sets you on the washer. You're still not near his height, but it's closer. You run your hands down his stomach, feeling every muscle, and then unbuckle his belt. 

He pulls your shirt off and smiles when he sees you're not wearing a bra. You unbutton his pants and slide the zipper down, his pants drop to the floor. He's not wearing underwear, he never does. His dick is hanging long and thick, just starting to get hard. He runs his hands across your cheeks and into your hair, kissing you softly, deeply. He runs his hands down your arms, "You feel so much better than wood and power tools," he says. His hands are rough.

You run your hands up through his hair, pushing it back from his face. His hair is always so soft.  
He wants to go slow, take his time, but you can feel his need building. He's pulling at the waist of your pants and you rise up a little so he can shimmy them off of you.

He's hard now, his erection standing up against his stomach. He pulls you to the edge of the washer and presses tight against you. With you on the washer everything will line up just right, and you're ready, hot and needy. The washer clicks and hits the spin cycle, and the vibration hits between your legs. "Oh, god..." You say. 

Sam smiles, he pushes into you, "Oh fuck, Sam." How did you get wet this fast? He's barely even touched you. You've wanted him for days and he's been distracted by the project, but you have his full attention now. 

You wrap your legs around his waist and he starts slowly sliding in and out. His head comes forward and you put your head back, so your faces are together, nose to nose. He's looking at you, into you, his eyes closing every time he slides back in. He's making soft sounds, those sounds are killing you. 

"Fuck me, Sam," you say, and he speeds up. He pulls your legs out from behind his back and holds them up at an angle. You have to lean back slightly and put your hands behind you to keep from falling back, but it's so good. 

"Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you hard?" 

"Yes Sam.... Oh god, yes. Harder." And he does. Your head rolls back on your shoulders and he's fucking you so hard the washer is rocking back and forth. He's hitting that spot, that perfect spot inside you. "Yes Sam, YES..." 

"Oh god, you feel good, your pussy feels so good..... I'm getting close." He's out of breath.  
"Come on Sam, come with me...... Oh Sammmm......" 

He lets go of one of your legs and slides his thumb across his tongue, then presses it between your legs, right on your clit. Sliding it back and forth across it, that friction is so good, and you can feel it coming. 

Every muscle between your legs tightens around him and he's slamming into you so hard, "Yes, come for me, yes, yes," he says.

"Sam!" It's all you can say, you're gasping and trying to breathe and he's still fucking you so hard. You see it on his face as he comes, his eyes shut and he tightens his jaw, riding it out. 

He slows down, pulling you up against him. He drops his face down by your ear, "Oh god, I love you," he whispers. 

You barely heard it, he said it so softly. 

You touch his face, your palm against his rough cheek, "I love you too, Sam," you whisper into his ear. He leans back and looks at you. Will this changing anything between you, saying this out loud? You don't know. He smiles, but it looks a little tight, this probably isn't something he's used to saying. 

"CAN YOU TWO KEEP IT DOWN IN THERE, GEEZ, YOU HORN DOGS!" Dean yells from the living room, and you and Sam collapse into laughter. You laugh until your sides hurt and you have tears in your eyes, and it's enough to break the tension and set things back to normal between you. 

Sam picks you up off the washer and carries you out of the laundry room, which is probably a good thing because your knees are weak from laughing so hard and from that awesome orgasm. 

You're both still naked and Dean meets you in the living room. "Dammit, Sammy, can you put that thing away, you're scaring the dog!" 

Sam grins. Dean crosses the room and pulls you out of Sam's arms, wrapping his underneath you. 

"Go get us something to eat, Sam, I'm working up an appetite." He says over his shoulder. 

Dean carries you into the bathroom. "You like fucking my little brother? He asks. "You like it when I can hear you?" Your arms are around his neck and he's looking straight ahead.

"Yes, I like fucking your little brother a lot."

His voice drops, his voice gets so low when he's turned on. "Oh, you're dirty; you're so dirty, I'm going have to clean you up," he says, and kicks the door shut behind him. 

He sets you down on the seat in the shower and turns on the water, kicking his boots off. He stands back and looks at you, pulling his shirt slowly up over his head. Unbuckling his belt and pulling it off. Unbuttoning his jeans, sliding the zipper down, pulling them off with his boxer briefs at the same time. He throws his socks in the corner and steps into the shower with you.  
He's hard, you knew he would be. He pulls you up and he kisses you so hard you can't breathe. He leans back and puts his mouth against your ear. His face feels like sandpaper. 

"You like fucking my little brother, and I get turned on by listening to it. That's pretty messed up, don't you think?" 

"I don't really care if it is messed up, Dean." You wrap your hand around the length of him and run your thumb across the tip. "Now shut up and fuck me," you whisper. 

It's exactly what he wants to hear. He pulls your hair, making your head go back, and he bites right in the hollow of your throat. You run your nails down his back and he growls into your skin. 

He pulls you back into the spray of water and puts his head back, drenching his face, and you lean down and lightly bite at his nipple. He spins you both, so you're under the water now, and you lean into it. Letting it run down your chest and over your breasts. Dean's hands are holding the small of your back and you bend back letting your head touch the wall. He leans into the water and sucks your nipple into his mouth. 

"How did he fuck you, huh? Did he fuck you slow and easy, or did he fuck you hard?" He says against your nipple.

"He fucked me so hard, Dean," you say, running your hands through his wet hair. 

"Well, I'm going to fuck you harder, you know that baby?" He runs those perfect teeth over your nipple and you shiver. 

"Is that a promise?" 

"Oh babe, you have no idea....."

He's done talking. He pulls you up and spins you around, putting your palms against the wall. He spreads your legs with his foot, sliding them apart. And then he shoves into you from behind and you make a sound somewhere between a gasp and a sob. 

"Fuck yes, Dean, oh fuck."

And fuck you he does, his hands on your hips, long, hard strokes that push deep inside you, over and over.

It doesn't take long, "Oh god, I'm getting close," you say into the tiles in the wall.

"I didn't say you could come yet," he says behind you. 

"Please, Dean," you whisper, you take your hand off the wall and slide it between your legs, aiming for your clit. Dean reaches around and grabs your wrist, putting your hand back against the wall.  
"No, you'll come when I'm ready." He's going to kill you with this. 

"Dean, please..." 

"You want to come? Are you begging me to let you come?" He asks.

"Yes, please, please, Dean...."

His fingers squeeze into your hips, "Oh man, you know I can't take it when you beg." 

He puts his arm around you from behind and rubs a circle around your clit with his middle finger, you moan out a breath and push your ass back against him. 

"Yeah baby, you like that? That feel good?" 

He rubs up and down over your clit, hard and fast and you can't even answer because you're coming again and you sob out. It sounds like you're crying but you're not, and Dean is grunting and slamming into you and then he pushes into you hard, so hard, and stays there. 

After a few seconds he says, "Fuck," and he slides out of you. You look at the floor of the shower and see his come dripping down. He kisses your shoulder, the back of your neck, and you stand up and lean back against him, wrapping his arms around your stomach. 

"Damn, that was good." He says. You couldn't have said it any better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GG is furiously working on the next part of this series, which we will post as soon as we can!


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